


Caramel

by yeaka



Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: Ficlet, M/M, Mild foodsmut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-27
Updated: 2017-12-27
Packaged: 2019-02-22 10:43:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13165254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Dirk can’t eat right. Todd’s apparently into it.





	Caramel

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Dirk Gently or Barbarella or any of their contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

Things are finally _sort of_ normal, or as normal as they can get with Dirk around, for at least the span of one evening—Todd has every confidence that by the time they wake up tomorrow morning, their lives will be in chaos again. But they’ve managed to survive most of the day without warping through time or dimensions, even managed to make a store run and top up their fridge, so he considers it a win. The only odd thing about the current moment is Dirk’s choice of movie, which seems to be a seventies sci-fi semi-comedy about a lone woman traveling the galaxy in pursuit of new outfits and orgasms. It isn’t _technically_ explicit—just suggestive in that cheesy old school sort of way—and Todd’s sure there’s a plot in there _somewhere_ —he just can’t remember what it is. The heroine is currently seducing an attractive blind angel. Todd’s slumped on the couch, trying not to notice how overtly handsome the angel is, while Dirk’s flittered off to do whatever Dirk does.

A few minutes later, with the heroine comfortably stretched out in the angel’s bird-like nest, Dirk climbs over the back of the couch. He settles down conspicuously close to Todd, like he was before he left, even though there’s a whole other empty cushion on the other side that he could take. He chooses the middle anyway. When he crosses his long legs, they’re touching Todd’s knee. Todd tries not to notice. Instead, he glances at the ceramic bowl in Dirk’s hands.

“I told you we’re out of clean spoons,” Todd says, because he’s fairly certain Dirk didn’t do any dishes. The television punctuates his remark with an awkward groaning sound that he tries not to blush at. Trust Dirk to pick a movie that would make him squirm.

Dirk just chirps, “I know,” like it’s not a problem, even though his bowl is full of vanilla ice cream. Todd’s still in shock that Dirk wanted to buy _vanilla_. It seems like the least Dirk flavour ever made. 

He eats it in a very Dirk-like way, which means he does it all _wrong_ , and somehow Todd can’t look away from it.

He scoops his slender fingers down through the creamy dome, then brings them up to his mouth. He curls the index and middle one against his tongue, avidly licking away the white dessert that drizzles off them. It melts as soon as it’s between his lips, and Todd can see every little detail of that, because Dirk keeps his mouth open wide to lick it all away.

They should’ve dimmed the lights. Todd usually does—it sets the mood. But he was trying to avoid that with Dirk. The mood’s gotten him anyway.

He watches Dirk go for another scoop, this time digging harder to gather more, and it slicks right down to his palm. Eyes on the screen, Dirk barely seems to notice. He ducks to kiss the mess away, opening and closing and lapping everything up. On the next go, he only uses one finger, and this he thrusts all the way into his mouth, maybe right up against the back, because his cheeks hollow out as he sucks it clean. A few white drops smear along his pink lips, staining the side. Todd has the horrible urge to lick them away.

He shouldn’t have let Farah go back to her own apartment. He shouldn’t have moved in with Dirk at all. But he also shouldn’t have started up with Dirk in the first place, and he already knows that sort of thinking is no use—he can’t get away from Dirk. Not because the universe won’t allow it. Because Dirk keeps doing stupid, _adorable_ things like this that capture all of Todd’s attention, narrowing his whole world down to just this one mercurial being.

The angel and the heroine are having sex. Todd can hear it. He doesn’t even look. Dirk’s head tilts, and he eyes the television with a weird mix of emotions that Todd can’t fully read, probably because he’s lost in the graceful motion of Dirk’s busy tongue. 

Then Dirk turns suddenly towards him, cream-stained mouth open for a question, but they’re so close that Todd doesn’t stand any chance. He reaches out to grab one lapel of Dirk’s yellow jacket, and he pulls Dirk just that _little bit_ closer.

He slips his tongue into Dirk’s mouth, running all on instinct, because Dirk makes him dizzy and giddy like that, and he always winds up following the flow one way or another. At least this time, it’s something he’s wanted. He licks the melting sugar off the inside of Dirk’s tongue and lines their lips up together. 

Dirk makes a little noise against him. Dirk shifts, tongue slipping around Todd’s, and Todd presses against it, presses against _Dirk_ , kissing Dirk for all he’s worth. When he tries to pull back to reposition them, Dirk surges in again, stealing another, then another, and Todd meets him, deepening each one—he makes out with Dirk in a sloppy, hazy slew of crude kisses, until Dirk’s got a hand on his chest and is gently pushing back. 

Breathless and blushing, Todd’s embarrassed as hell. But Dirk’s just grinning, his eyes glinting. He wags one spit-slicked finger at Todd and tells him, “Nice try, but you are _not_ getting all my ice cream. Honestly, Todd. The fridge is right there—you can get your own.” And he rolls his eyes with a fond sort of quality, as though to say that _Todd’s_ ridiculous, but Dirk likes him anyway.

Todd should’ve known that would be how it would go. He doesn’t know what to say, so he just turns back to the television. The movie’s progressed to a new setting, but it doesn’t matter—it couldn’t possibly be as confusing as his real life. Dirk happily returns to his ice cream.

But he shuffles a little bit closer, so that their sides are touching everywhere. Todd even throws his arm around the back of the couch without knowing what the hell he’s doing, and Dirk seems to preen and perk without looking at him. Todd’s a mess.

By the time Dirk’s done his ice cream, he’s more of a mess, and he sets his empty bowl on the coffee table before abandoning the movie entirely and descending down on Todd.


End file.
